Your sounds
by IzWrites
Summary: Keith just wanted to spend some time with Lance, in silence. Why must Lance make things so hard? (Keith's not really complaining). (Keith/Lance/Hunk)


I posted this on ao3 first. I still don't know what is this.

English is not my first language.

 **Disclaimer** : Voltron ain't mine and I made all this up (god bless).

 **Warnings** : Tickling, Tickling Torture, dub-con, Exhibitionism, Bad BDSM Etiquette.

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 **Your sounds**

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Keith wasn't sure _why_ he was following Lance, specially after training. He had an idea, of course, but it wasn't a thought he liked to tackle very often. Lately, he could admit, he liked to spend more time with him, mostly because Lance was behaving better, and in the end of the day, Keith, well, Keith did liked Lance.

It was weird for Keith, since he usually stayed two or three additional hours in the training deck, but he figured some resting time couldn't do him wrong. The rest of the group dispersed, and they stayed alone on the sunken couches, and while it was not weird to be just the two of them, Lance was being really quiet.

Until he was not and Keith started to ignore him.

Not because Keith disliked Lance's talking, Keith liked when Lance talked. No, really, he liked the way he quickly pronounced the words, they seemed to jump and dance in his mouth, the way he enunciated was fast and Keith has always liked speed. But when he started to spew filler words or supposedly witty remarks that weren't that clever in the first place, he obviously got annoyed, as any person with half a brain would.

He closed his eyes, let his head and arms fall in the backseat, completely relaxed and unaware of what Lance was saying. Something about space… no, something about Earth. Maybe it was important? Shit, maybe he should listen back. But when he tried to pay attention, Lance had stopped talking,

Lance was offended by his apathy, and he decided to mess with him, getting closer to tickle him. Because everyone was weak at tickles in Lance's mind.

But when Lance tickled him, Keith's only reaction was to open his eyes, unfazed, eyebrow raised in question.

Lance blood rushed to his cheeks, and he backed down, unsure of what to do. It was funny, to Keith, watching the two seconds of confusion before he tried to tickle him again.

"It's not gonna work Lance, I'm not ticklish."

"What are you?! Dead?!"

He was desperate to keep trying, and seeing him struggling was kind of cute. Keith laughed through his nose, and he pinned Lance to the couch, holding his wrists with a hand.

Lance proved his grip by slowly moving his fists, and when he realized Keith wasn't playing, he said concerned. "Let me go."

"No way, I won't. Now's your turn. Can a dead man do this to you?"

Turns out, Lance was the ticklish one. Just a few touches in his sides and he was already laughing, shaking his head, squirming to get free. Keith let him go only to tackle him with his body, and now he was having such a good time torturing Lance.

"No! Stop! Keith! You're killing me!"

Keith was having a blast, his cackles were harder than Lance's. Lance was destroyed, looking at him with big, teary eyes, face all red, and something whirled inside of Keith. He was thinking into cutting it soon, because damn, Lance looked pretty bad, when he traveled his hands to Lance's navel and Lance, instead of his usual whimpers he left something akin a moan.

And that was… _interesting_.

Keith let his body fall, grinding on Lance's crotch. Lance moaned again, harder, and both of their blushes deepened. Keith inhaled deeply at Lance's loud moan, and he left a laughter leave his mouth. Then he stopped. And he waited for some seconds. And Lance didn't seem to fight his way off, he was heavy breathing and all red, his eyes averted and almost shy, but he must have enough strength to fight him if he wanted to fight, right? Lance wanted this, or at least that's what his eyes were saying.

Keith took a chance, and attacked Lance's stomach with even more tickles, Lance's whimpers and tears seemed to be louder and in more quantity, his laughing strangled in his throat, and Keith was delighted. He was enjoying the not-talking Lance more than ever, be dammed the weird situation they were into.

And why tickles? Why was this happening? He wanted, he wanted to do other things, but he was enthralled by the kind of reactions this was taking out of Lance.

He didn't have a chance to change his mind on doing other things with Lance, because suddenly Hunk interrupted.

Embarrassment bathed him, his cheeks were already red from the laughter but he would have blushed at the interested look in Hunk's eye. Lance and him weren't supposed to be doing this (whatever it was) there, in public, where everyone could catch them. It probably looked pretty bad for an outsider. Lance was breathing frantically, trying to catch his breath back, exhilarated laughs leaving his mouth, and that didn't make up for their case.

Hunk, however, didn't seem to mind. His face turned understanding, and he sat next to them to said, matter-of-factly. "So you discovered Lance is ticklish?" There was a glint of amusement in his voice, like if he knew something Keith didn't. Well, no. As if he knew Keith found out something personal of Lance. Unrelated to the fact he was ticklish.

Actually, quite related to the fact he was ticklish.

Hunk joined. Lance, whose face changed to a hopeful one at the sight of Hunk, suddenly became resigned to his fate, to quickly have again that shade of cockiness. He didn't say anything, but one might argue it was because he could not gather enough air to talk, given the fact now he had four pairs of hands tickling him in different parts of his body, making his limbs and will as weak as spagethi.

Hunk moved him to his legs, holding him tight, spreading his legs. Keith was actually thankful for that, it was easy to tickle him like this, when Hunk opened him so nicely. Hunk also undressed Lance off his shirt to use it as a rope for his hands and fuck, that was hot, with Lance's arms up in that position tickling his armpits was way more easier.

He wasn't understanding what the fuck they were doing, but tickling Lance was surprisingly fun. Surprisingly satisfactory. His chest was humming, loving every second of it, eyes focused on the task.

Lance exhausted laughs sounded astonishingly when you tickled him between the legs, and Keith dedicated a lot of time there, the moans and whimpers and the soft "please stop" of Lance were doing something to him. Hunk's presence eased the voice of the back of his head who was disgusted by a partner saying "no". Hunk must know what Lance liked, right? He had to, if he looked at the way Hunk was handling Lance. And, for all the whining of Lance, in this position, he could kick keith and try to fight, which he didn't. Keith felt guilty for not asking things, but it wans't like he could find his voice in the middle of that.

For now, he was going to trust in Lance and Hunk's friendship, and the fact Lance was so willingly into Hunk's arm. Hunk was now sweeter with Lance, biting his ear as his hand slowly worked on his dick, with teasing pumping. Lance was louder, absolutely melted in their hands. The thought of getting caught was nowhere in his head, his only thought was Lance squirming and drooling at their attentions.

He was on his knees, tickling his calves when he picked on Hunk's signal.

Of course.

He licked his lips, taking Lance's shoes off, and when he started to tickle his feet, Lance's lost it. He was screaming, but Hunk hold him tighter, tighter, until Lance finally came in their hands, dirtying his own stomach, cackling with force. Keith swallowed, astonished by Lance's blushed and pleased face.

"Woohoo!" Lance said. His voice was raspy and rough now, and Keith wanted, wanted, wanted, when would be the next time he could hear him like that? He was leaned in him with his hands in his thighs, unsure of how to proceed.

Lance kissed Hunk, who returned the kiss sweetly, rewarding him. Hunk's hands were touching his body gentler, and although Lance kept twitching, he was far more relaxed, returning from his hype slowly.

Suddenly, Keith felt foreign. His own erection hasn't softened but he felt this was not a scene he was able to participate in. It was… intimate. Lance and Hunk had been together for a long time, or at least, that's how it looked. And Keith didn't want to interrupt, not after taking so much out of Lance. He didn't want to be that guy.

He stood up, leaving them alone, deciding if he should masturbate (with the image of Lance screaming and whining, laughing desperate? and why was that thought so infuriatingly alluring? Fuck) or wipe his frustration away with more training. Which is what he should have done in the first place.

Lance broke the kiss with a loud pop, and with teary eyes he asked, "Why are you leaving?" with such a demanding voice it made his dick twitch, his voice once again had that cocky singsong he liked. Lance must have feel intimadated for the situation he was into, because after that he hid in Hunk's neck, who only laughed at his boldness.

"We should probably leave though, we're kinda in dangerous position… Wanna met in my room?" Hunk asked, to Keith. His eyes were reassuring and inviting, and it took Keith's breath away.

"I should've gone to train more."

.

.

.

(It was a yes.)

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a/n: I still hate the fic's name.


End file.
